Forgiveness
by msjgatsby
Summary: This is what Mike must have felt in his last moments, when he looked up powerless from the hospital bed to see Sid Markum standing there, knowing he was going to die. Only it wasn't Sid who would be coming to take Paige away. It was always going to be Mike.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm obviously struggling with White Flag, because I'm stuck on a particular plot point and can't figure out how to solve it. I am working on it. In the mean time, I'm writing all these other stories while I sit there and stare at the blank pages. This one will only be 4 (5?) chapters, and I have them all pretty much written, so not as big of a deal to finish. This is my attempt at a story where Paige actually does betray Mike to Sid, and will probably be my only one because I fully believe that it was a completely OOC thing for her to do.

* * *

The heart monitor beats weakly beside the hospital bed. The agent attached to it, looks pale and weak. The ugly scrapes and bruises look out of place on the otherwise flawless body. A chunk of blonde hair is shaved back to reveal the stitches that sew up the gash where doctors had to operate.

Next to the hospital bed pouring over the chart, is a person who's not supposed to be there. A ghost who has snuck into the hospital, cloaked by night, practice, and a dark hoodie.

Intelligent eyes quickly scan over the doctor's messy chicken scratch, trying to make sense of each word on the page. If the patient doesn't wake up within 48 hours, the chances of survival drop by 98%. This report was filed two days ago, after the surgery.

A single tear smudges the ink on the page, but the others are not allowed to follow. Slamming the chart back in place, the intruder begins to pace back and forth angrily, wondering how this all happened. The beeps mockingly continue at their slow pace. Beep… Beep… Beep..

None of this should be happening. It feels like a bad dream.

"Come on, wake up. Not like this."

If the words are heard, there's no sign of acknowledgement.

"Come on, Paige. You have to wake up!" Mike orders again, in a soft whisper, leaning over the hospital bed of his former lover. There is still no response from the blonde agent in the bed. Mike's pale fingertips reach for her hand attached to the heart monitor, but after hovering for a moment, he pulls away, deciding against the innocent touch. She looks so weak, he fears it might break her.

For a brief moment, he has a fantasy of waking her with true love's kiss like a fairy tale. But his time at Graceland has stripped him of his innocence, and he knows their life is no fairy tale. Paige doesn't want his love, and after all that's happened, he's not sure he has any left to give. Even with all that, he had thought they'd one day work it out, but it seems like they've run out of time. This could be the end of their story. Even if Paige does wake up, she may not ever be Paige again.

"Paige as long as I've known you, you have never given up. Fight this, please. Come back to me." Mike squeezes his eyes shut to keep back tears as there is still no response from the monitors. He decides to try a different approach, turning her own words against her. "You know, I forgive you. For everything that happened, for everything between us. I forgive you… but I will never forgive you if you die like this."

"Are you trying to punish me more? Is this your way of getting back at me for all I've done?" Mike isn't sure if he's talking to Paige or God at this point. He knows he needs to leave this room, but he can't bring himself to. When he leaves, that will be the end. He knows it.

"You want to hear the words, Paige? The truth? Fine. I burned Lina. Sulla killed her because I was too cocky. I tried, but I couldn't save her. So, I burned her body. Then I couldn't face you. I couldn't tell you what really happened, because I knew it would break your heart and I couldn't do it. So I lied to you. I lied, and then I faked her escape and hit myself with a goddamn tire iron hoping you wouldn't find out."

"Of course, you saw right through me." Mike says with a wry grin, looking down at his hands which were pressed together. He could never fool her. As much as Mike hated that, he also thought it might be the thing he loved most about her. "You didn't believe me for a second. I thought if I could just keep going, that I could find a way to tip the scales. To make up for what I did. Obviously, I was too late."

"Look, I promise if you just come back to me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you," Mike pleads. "But you've got to come back and keep me in line ok? There is so much more you need to kick my ass for. I need you. I need you to come back to me. I need you, because I don't know what sort of monster I'll become if you're not here to guide me."

"That night before you got abducted… That goddamn night when everything went so wrong, I told you I couldn't sleep with Jess, because my heart was somewhere else. Paige, you don't just have my heart, you _are_ my heart. You can't take that away from me."

"Excuse me sir."

Mike nearly jumps out of his seat. He was caught. He's stayed too long, let his guard down in his grief, and now he was caught.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just changing her IV bag." The kindly older nurse says to Mike. Mike lets out a sigh of relief as he realizes she doesn't seem to know who he is and there are no armed guards ready to take him away.

"Sorry. I know it's passed visiting hours, I should go." Mike stands up in a hurry, trying to hide his face from her. Trying to be forgettable.

"You're fine honey. You're the brother right?" Mike just nods, still a little uneasy. He remembered Paige talking about her brother. Danny. He was her best friend growing up, and he knew they were still close, but he'd never met any of Paige's family. "They said he would be visiting. I understand how it is. You've got some tough decisions to make."

"Decisions?" Mike echos back nervously.

"She's an organ donor. The standard office policy is to harvest as soon as the patient is declared brain dead. We need permission from her Health Care POA first." Of course she would be a fucking donor. Paige would want to help others in anyway she could, but the thought of her being divided up like parts… _His _Paige… His heart.

Mike can barely get the words out to ask, "How long until they decide…"

"Don't worry. She's a fighter. Nothing's been declared yet, they just like to talk to the family ahead of time to make sure everything is in line."

"But if she doesn't wake up soon?"

"They won't decide anything without talking to you first." The nurse means it to be comforting, but Mike knows it's not him they would be talking to. It would be Danny. A man he's never met.

"Do you mind if I stay just a bit longer?" Mike asks weakly. He's not sure he can leave now.

"Of course honey. Stay as long as you need. I'm here until 2am, and after that the staff switches, and the late shift nurse is not as understanding."

"Thank you." Mike says, sitting back down beside Paige's bed. "Can she hear me?"

"I think so. Try singing to her." The nurse says as she packs up her things to leave.

"I don't sing." Mike says bluntly.

"Sometimes, just hearing the tune helps." The nurse smiles encouragingly at him. "I'll leave you two alone now."

Mike sits next to her for a few moments in silence, just listening to the beeps and worrying. Finally he takes a deep breath and turns back to the sleeping girl.

"This is so stupid. If you can hear me, I'm sorry for this." Mike takes a deep breath and begins in a quiet shaky voice, "_You've got to… S-M-I-L-E to be H-A-double-_"

Mike doesn't finish singing, because suddenly, out of nowhere, Paige awakens.

It's not a soft gentle fluttering of the eyelashes with a coy smile like he expected. It's a twisted grimace followed by an avalanche of violent activity. All of a sudden Paige starts to spasm, her hands flailing about, clawing at her neck, ripping at the intubation tube. She's making a gurgling noise and rips out first the IV then the pulse meter from her hand. The machine flatlines, and Mike presses the nurses button frantically, but three staff members are already shoving their way into the room.

"She's fighting the intubation tube. She's choking. We need to calm her down!"

Mike can barely hear the words. His heart is racing, and he's trying to back up towards the door. He needs to escape before anyone realizes who he is. He can't be here for this. Can't watch her struggle. She's awake. She's awake and flailing about with strength he didn't know anyone in her state could have. She was awake.

Suddenly, with the doctors crowded around her trying to hold her down, her green eyes shoot open and lock wildly on his. For a second Mike is frozen. He can't move at all. She's staring straight at him.

The only thought in Paige's head is, this is what Mike must have felt like. Gasping for breath. Dying and unable to do anything to save himself. This is what Mike must have felt in his last moments, when he looked up powerless from the hospital bed to see Sid Markum standing there, knowing he was going to die. Only it wasn't Sid who would be coming to take Paige away. It was always going to be Mike.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Notes: This whole story may seem choppy, but I'm only writing the bits that interest me.

* * *

"I saw him." Paige says. With her eyes squeezed shut, she can still picture him standing in the corner of the room.

"Who?" Charlie asks gently, taking her hand.

"Mike." The word sounds rough on her tongue. Like she hasn't used it in so long that it's rusted.

"Like a dream?" Charlie asks, trying to understand what has Paige so upset.

"No, when I woke up. I saw him standing next to my bed." Paige says, opening her eyes again to see Charlie instead of Mike. Hoping she can read the answer on her face.

"What was he doing?" Charlie asks gently.

"Watching me." Paige says distractedly, remembering the moment when her eyes met his. She couldn't quite read what she saw there in his eyes. He was gone so fast. She blinked and he was gone.

"Did he say anything?" Charlie asks.

"No. He was only there for a second."

"Well that makes sense." Charlie says thoughtfully.

"How does it make sense? He's supposed to be dead."

This is the question Paige has been asking herself again and again.

The most obvious answer she won't allow herself to hope for. Not again. The false hope that Lina might be alive had driven her insane when she learned the truth. If she allowed herself that same hope that Mike was alive out there, if she allowed herself to believe he wasn't dead, and then had to experience his death again… It would kill her. She couldn't let herself hope.

"Well you were heavily medicated. You'd just had surgery. We weren't sure you were going to make it. There's stories you hear of those you lost watching over you like a guardian angel." Charlie says gently.

"Trust me, if he were watching over me, he wouldn't be my guardian angel." Paige knows what she did and it sits like a stone in her stomach. If Mike was coming back from the grave it wouldn't be to watch over her. It would be for revenge. Maybe this was her revenge. Living without him. Living with what she did.

"He loved you." Charlie says softly, mistaking Paige's guilt. Briggs obviously hadn't told her yet that Paige was to blame for Mike's death.

"It wasn't like that." Paige dismisses the thought because it hurts too much. They were just a fling. He didn't love her. She didn't betray the man who loved her. It was just a fling between coworkers. One of many for him.

"Look, I know you two were fighting there towards the end but-"

"You don't know the whole story." Paige cuts Charlie off before she can say anymore. It wasn't some lover's quarrel between her and Mike. It was more than that.

"Then tell me." Charlie says firmly.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Charlie insists, but Paige just silently stares at the wall and avoids eye contact. "Ok, fine. If you don't want to talk about Mike, do you at least want to tell me what the hell it was you were doing that got you hospitalized?"

"I was working-" Paige begins a practiced lie, but Charlie cuts her off.

"Don't you give me that bullshit! Everyone needs to stop with the lies!" Charlie yells at her, "No one in this Goddamn house talks anymore! Whats the point of Graceland, if we're all gonna stay in our secret little worlds. We're supposed to be a family."

"Don't get upset, it's bad for the baby." Paige says.

"The baby is fine." Charlie growls, upset at being told how to feel all the time.

"Fine, don't get upset, it's bad for me." Paige says.

"Sorry. You're right. I shouldn't yell." Charlie apologizes. "Just promise me if you ever need to talk, you'll come to me? Ok?"

"I'm feeling kind of tired. I think I'm just going to lie back down for a bit." Paige says, rolling over to her side away from Charlie. She doesn't mean to block Charlie out, but she can't handle this right now. There's too much going on, and she aches all over. Gingerly she moves back to a resting position, trying to get as comfortable as she can in the lumpy hospital bed.

"Ok. Feel better. No more scaring us like that ok?" Charlie says, standing up to leave.

"Thanks Charlie. I'll see you at home soon."

"You better."

* * *

Mike has his hood up covering his face, carefully walking a path to avoid the security cameras in the lobby. Before he can reach the stairs, he is grabbed and forcefully pulled into an empty men's room. Mike pushes away, prepared for a fight, when a hand clamps down over his mouth.

"Are you insane?" Briggs whispers harshly to him. "Charlie said Paige saw you, Mike. She _saw _you! This is the one place you shouldn't be. You might as well just waltz into the precinct and shout you're alive. After all the work we went through to fake your death, keep you hidden, you come here of all places?"

"I just needed to see she was ok." Mike says, pushing Briggs hand away from his face.

"Well she's not ok. Ever since Sylmar, she has been throwing herself into more and more dangerous situations. It's like she's trying to get herself killed, and this time she almost did. God knows what trouble she got into."

"What do you mean?" Mike asks cautiously.

"Whatever mission she was on isn't even on the books. Apparently she got so reckless the DEA gave her a forced leave of absence, and she didn't tell anyone in the house. Now hopefully, this is the wakeup call she needs. I will watch her, but you gotta walk away man." Briggs tries to talk some sense into the younger agent, who is stubbornly looking at the ground looking like an obstinate child who doesn't like what he's hearing.

"When she said she saw me, how did she sound?" Mike asks, "Did she sound relieved or..."

"You poor son of a bitch. You know what she did right?" Briggs demands, and Mike looks away frustrated as Briggs reminds him again. "She tried to have you killed, Mike. She damn near succeeded."

"Don't tell me the thought never crossed your mind." Mike says, pointing out the hypocrisy of Briggs' lecture. "Look I know what she did and I know why she did it. I know me being here is stupid and-"

"Stupid and reckless and dangerous and-" Briggs continues the list for Mike.

"Look I know, ok!" Mike throws Briggs hand off his shoulder, and for a brief moment Briggs worries the kid might start throwing punches, but instead his shoulders slump in defeat. "I just thought maybe… I have to make sure she's ok."

"Look Paige is going to do whatever Paige is going to do, and you can't change it. Just don't take yourself down with her. We have to get Sid remember? This is bigger than some summer fling."

"You're right. Look I know you're right… I just…" Mike struggles for words, and finds it impossible, because he can't explain it to himself. He should hate her, or at the very least forget her. She obviously hates him. He just can't move on. "It can't end like this. I won't let it."

"You love her…" Briggs says in awe as he stares at Mike. Mike feels like Briggs sees right through him at that moment. This is a revelation to Briggs, but to Mike it's been a fact for a while now. He knows he's in love with her, that he's been in love with her for as far back as he can remember. He's consistently surprised that no one else seemed to notice. Briggs is astonished as he asks, "How? After what she's done?"

"I just have to see her. Just once. I need to see her breathing on her own." Mike gets control of himself, and dodges the explanation. He's not stupid. He knows Paige sent Sid to his bedside, and as much as it hurts, he knows why she did it. He knows her and he betrayed her trust one too many times.

"Mike, she's fine. If anyone sees you." Briggs tries to talk Mike out of it, but Mike won't hear it.

He just needs to see her one more time. The last time he saw her she looked so weak. Every time he closes his eyes he sees her like that. Choking on the intubation tube. The panic and fear in her eyes. He needs to see with his own eyes that she will survive this and then he can focus on Sid again.

"Please, Briggs. I'm just going to walk by her room. I won't even go in." Mike begs. He knows Briggs is invested in this as well. He could get in trouble for concealing Mike's identity. Everyone in the FBI still thought he was responsible for Solano's, but Mike needs to see her one more time. He needs to take that risk.

"Alright, we're going to need to get you a better disguise than this, though. You stand out like a sore thumb. You look like a teenager about to rob a liquor store." Briggs sighs, pulling at Mike's hoodie.

"Thank you."

* * *

Mike walks in, his face obscured by a doctor's mask and cap, Brigg's idea. Much less obvious than the black hoodie he'd worn the other night. He's just hoping no one mistakes him for a doctor and asks him for medical advice.

He was planning to just walk by, but seeing her sleeping, he takes the risk and slips into the room. He picks up her chart again, his eyes looking for answers to questions he can't ask. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the words "No permanent brain damage. Monitor for changes and discharge in twenty four hours.

Mike looks down at the sleeping girl lying in the bed, and wipes unmanly tears of relief forming in his eyes. There's so much he needs to fix, but she's going to be fine, so there's still hope that someday in the future he'll get a chance to explain. To work through all this. As long as she keeps breathing, they have a chance.

Mike turns to leave. He has the information he needs. She looks stronger than the other day already. She would be fine.

"So what's the outlook, Doc?" Paige's voice stops him before he can leave. Mike freezes on the spot, his back to her. He can't turn to face her, he can't answer her, but he can't bring himself to run either.

"This morphine drip button is awesome. Now I understand why it's selling for $350 a bag on the black market." Paige says, as though she didn't expect the doctor to answer her. "Do me a favor? Check the front pocket of my bag."

Mike is relieved, realizing that she must think he's someone else. Some other doctor she talked to before. He has a momentary prick of jealousy, wondering if some doctor has been in here hitting on her, but he pushes the feelings back.

Keeping his back to her, and staying out of the light shining in from the hallway, he walks over to her bag sitting on a chair. He assumes he's going to get her some pills, but his fingers wrap around out the only thing in the front pocket, a small USB drive. His brow furrowing in confusion as he pulls it out and looks at it. It's marked with a piece of tape that in neat printed letters read _Markum_.

"I'm so sorry, Mike." Her voice is choked and Mike realizes she's known it was him all along. "It's all there. Everything you need to bury him. You need to work quickly. He caught me before I could-"

"Markum? Markum is the one who put you in here?" Mike can't help it, the hate filled words spill out of his mouth before he can stop himself. It doesn't matter anyways. She knows who he is.

"I know there's no way I could make it up to you, what I did, but I had to try to-"

Mike's fist tightens around the USB drive so tightly he almost breaks it. Without another word, without looking back, he storms out of the hospital room. Paige stares up numbly at the ceiling, holding back tears. What she provided wasn't much, but it was a start. She hoped one day she could finally earn his forgiveness.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I appreciate hearing people are reading and the reactions.

* * *

The house is silent as Paige sits on the edge of the bed. She's wearing a red evening gown. She has her hair carefully curled and styled to cover the shaved section of her head. Secretly, she kind of likes the new level of punk the shaved section has added to her hair. It makes her feel like a badass, though still not brave enough to walk out the door. Her makeup is done, but she sits on the edge of the bed in the same place she's been for an hour. She will leave any minute. She's been telling herself that all night.

Somewhere downtown, there is a party being thrown in Mike Warren's honor. He has risen from the dead, cleared his name, closed the Solano ring and put a dirty cop in jail for the rest of his days. This is the stuff legends are made of. Not only has the FBI welcomed him back with open arms and accolades, but he can have any job he wants. In any city he wants. There's talk of him becoming the youngest director the FBI has ever seen. She is certain that come tomorrow he will be on a flight back to DC. It's good. It's what should happen.

As far as she knows, no one knows how Mike came across the files that ultimately buried Markum. She was in the hospital and off duty for most of the actual events, but she's read the reports and heard the stories of how Mike led the arrests like a hero. She's read of how shocked Markum looked when Mike Warren himself rose from the dead to make the arrests. Now the hero of the party is downtown probably recounting the story to a bunch of impressed FBI higher ups.

She should be there. Everyone who was anyone would be there. All her housemates at Graceland are, anyone who worked on the Solano case. It's a night for celebrating. Her absence will look suspicious, but she can't bring herself to leave. She hasn't seen Mike since that night in her hospital room when he couldn't even look at her. How can she face him now?

A shadow falls over her from the light that's shining in from the hallway and it finally brings her out of the catatonic state she's been in for the last hour.

"Knock knock." Mike says, softly tapping on the door frame.

"What are you doing here?" Paige stands up in shock, "You're supposed to be at the Hilton."

"You are too." Mike says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame, refraining from entering the room.

His eyes sweep over her dress and from head to toe and back again, and she blushes a little despite herself under his gaze. He knows she was too scared to go. This wasn't her obstinately objecting to his presence. She had just chickened out.

"You're not missing much. Lots of drunk politicians and federal agents. I ducked out early." Mike says casually.

"It's your party." She says, knowing full well what Mike left behind. It was his celebration, a huge honor and he was missing it. Mike shrugged modestly.

"I thought I should return this to you." He reaches into his tux pocket, a tux that looks tailored perfectly to him, and pulls out from behind his pocket square her usb drive.

He flips the small drive over in his hand. He holds it out to her, making her cross the room to him to retrieve it. When she holds out her hand for it, he takes her hand in his. Slowly he places the usb in her palm with his other hand, so her hands are held between his. She worries he can feel her pulse quicken as they both stare down at their joined hands.

They're standing so close. The closest they've been since she brought his documents to the warehouse. She stares down at their hands and can feel his breath on her skin as he whispers, "Thank you."

She realizes why he had to return it tonight. He wouldn't be here tomorrow. He was leaving. She takes the USB and breaks contact, taking a step back as she says in a factual tone, "You're heading back to DC."

His eyes stay locked on hers, waiting for a reaction, as he simply nods in affirmation.

"Good for you." She says with forced smile. "You got what you've always wanted."

"What you wanted too." Mike says, trying to make the words sound light. "You've finally gotten rid of me."

"I never wanted-" She begins to argue, his words hurting her, but he cuts her off.

"We both know that's not true." He says sadly.

"I'm so sorry. I don't even remember the drive there. All of a sudden I was at the station, and it was like I wasn't in control of my body." The words are spilling out of her, and she's starting to shake, but she needs him to know how truly sorry she is, "I regretted it the second-"

"You don't have to explain. I know-"

"No, I do. I really do. I'm so sorry, Mike. More than I can ever say. I was so stupid. I-"

He cuts her off by grabbing her arms and pressing his lips to hers harshly. He regains control of himself just as fast. He pulls away, looking into her eyes for what damage his impulse might have caused. When all he sees is confusion, hope, and possibly desire, he kisses her again.

This time, her arms come up around his neck and he backs her up against the wall. The two kiss passionately, both trying to push away the fear that they both almost lost the other forever. Mike's hands tangle in her hair as he nearly sucks the breath out of her. Her nails dig into the back of his neck with one hand. The other hand instinctively roams down his body, to begin removing his shirt. When her hand accidentally scraps his injured side, he sucks in a harsh breath and jumps back, accidentally knocking over her lamp on her nightstand. The shattered lamp brings them both back to their senses as they stand there, breathing hard against the wall.

Looking down at her with a shy smile, he rests his forehead against hers.

"You're really leaving?" Paige asks sadly. This was how it would end for them, and admittedly it was a better ending than one of them dead, but it still felt wrong.

"You could ask me to stay." Mike says softly.

"I can't do that." Paige says.

Maybe a few months ago she could have asked, but now… She had no right to ask that. Even if she did, he wouldn't be able to. He belonged in DC.

"I know." Mike says, with a sad accepting smile.

"Stay tonight?" Paige asks desperately, knowing she doesn't even have the right to ask this. She flinches at how needy and hopeful her voice sounds, and tries to bring it back to a playful nonchalant tone as she asks, "One last time? For old time's sake?"

"I can't do that." Mike says. "I can't stay tonight, knowing there won't be a tomorrow."

"I didn't want it to end this way." Paige begs. She knows why he has to leave, but knowing this is the end is heartbreaking.

Mike pauses in her doorway for just a moment. That was the difference between him and Paige. The problem all along.

"I didn't want it to end."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Yes I am posting these chapters at super human speed. It's amazing what you can do when you don't care about all the other stuff that fleshes out a story.

Thanks for the reviews! I need to figure out tumblr or twitter or something like that so I can track things better, but thanks for the update about Mike's necklace. While I recognize the actor in charge of creating the character has a bit more say over things than I, St. Michaels is a MUCH better choice than St Christopher. St. Michaels is the protector and Mike's namesake! It's the patron Saint of the police force, dying people and is represented literally in the act of defeating evil. Saint Christopher is the guardian of travelers and gardeners. Come on Aaron, work with me. Either choose a better Saint or have Mike take up a hobby in horticulture.

* * *

Paige sits at her computer, running her hair through her short pixie cut. When the difference in length between the shaved section of her head and her long hair could no longer be concealed, she'd sheared it all off to the short length. It was a difficult change to adjust to, not having her long locks there to hide behind, but she found it quite freeing. Like she was a new person. She sits cross legged at her desk in Graceland surrounded by papers. She's been working twenty four seven recently on a new gang in town that seems to have monopolized the cocaine market. She's been researching for weeks, and has finally compiled all the information into a report she's planning to present to her supervisors on Monday.

She cracks her neck and presses save for a final time, please that the report is done and she can enjoy what's left of the weekend.

She rummages through her desk drawer through old odds and ends, and thinks for the millionth time how she is probably six months late in spring cleaning since it's almost Christmas. Finding an old USB drive, she pushes it into her computer to save her presentation onto.

She opens the drive and sees a file with her name on it, which is strange, because she can't remember what she saved on it. She clicks curiously on the file and it opens to show three things, a jpg file, a word document and another file marked evidence. She clicks on the JPG file titled "Happy" first.

Her breath catches as an unexpected selfie of her laughing while Mike kisses her cheek fills her screen. She had completely forgotten he took this picture. It had been on a night shortly after they'd started their fling. He'd surprised her by making up some excuse to their roommates about investigating the buses and instead drove her out to a hotel in San Jose for the weekend...

* * *

**Flashback**

"We can't take pictures. You know that."

Paige chides him lightly as she dances around the hotel room to a punk song Mike had never heard. She'd been shocked to realize how limited his musical exposure was and was drunkenly attempting to broaden his horizons.

Mike didn't seem to care one way or the other about the Morrissey song playing in the background, but enjoyed watching Paige dance about the room and the look on her face as she closed her eyes and gave into the music. It was watching her, that he decided he needed something to remember this moment.

"I just want one of us. Come here. No one else will ever see it." Mike holds his hand out, distractedly reaching again for her, as he prepares his phone to take a picture. "This is just for my private collection. Aren't you always telling me I need to decorate more?"

"These are the same arguments made that lead to sex tapes being leaked."

"When has anyone used interior decoration as an argument for a sex tape?"

"Well there was this muscle bound Russian gangster I was under with, who had a penchant for both incredibly high end art and incredibly vulgar pornography-"

"Nevermind. Don't want to know." Mike quickly shakes the thought from his head. Paige laughs and continues to dance silently.

"Look, no one's asking you to make a sex tape." Mike groans as she again dances out of his reach, "Well not yet anyways… I would need to be much drunker for that. Come on. One picture together."

"No selfies!" Paige teases him. "Grown men do not take selfies."

"They do when their girlfriend is as hot as mine." Mike says, finally getting a hand on Paige's wrist and pulling her into his lap on the bed.

"I'm not sure I ever agreed to that term." She looks up with a smirk at him. They'd never formally agreed to labels, but from where she was laying in Mike's lap pleasantly buzzed, the term actually sounded quite appealing.

"Ok, forget I said that. We are tabling that discussion because I don't want to ruin our romantic getaway weekend." Mike replies hastily.

Paige raises an eyebrow at him, wondering what he has to say for himself that he thinks might ruin their weekend, but she decides he's right, she's in no mood for a 'define the relationship talk'. Not when she's so pleasantly buzzed, and his hair is so looking so perfect it demands to be destroyed by crazy loud sex. After weeks of attempting to keep quiet so their roommates don't hear, the other guests of the hotel should not expect any sleep tonight.

"Come on. Admit it. I did good this weekend." Mike coaxes her, nuzzling his nose to hers. "I made a plan, whisked you away to a romantic secluded hotel, remembered your favorite liquor. Just allow me one picture as a reward."

"_This_ is what you want as your reward? A selfie of us? I was just going to give you a blow job." Paige laughs. Mike begins cracking up laughing, wrapping his arms around her to keep her from falling off his lap. The camera phone momentarily forgotten, he leans in to kiss her in between giggles.

"One picture." Paige concedes after a moment of playful kisses, taking the camera from him and holding it out to take a picture.

"I changed my mind. I want the blow job instead." Mike teases her, kissing her cheek and making her burst out laughing as she takes the photo.

* * *

Paige smiles staring at the photo. She looked so happy. Mike's arms are wrapped around her, and somehow they both look so much younger even though the photo is less than a year old. She considers making the photo her background, but reluctantly clicks out of it.

A few moments ago she was just sitting at her computer relieved to be done with the boredom of typing up her reports. Now unexpectedly, she's being hit with emotions she was not prepared for. Just looking at this photo makes her want to laugh, cry, and scream all at the same time. She's not sure if she can handle whatever is in the other two files.

She clicks on the word document titled "Sorry" with a shaking hand.

_Paige,_

_You trusted me, and I abused that trust. In this file is everything. Proof about what really happened in Sylmar. All my deepest secrets. They're throwing me this fancy party tonight, calling me a hero, but we both know the truth. I don't deserve this. I burned Lina. I tortured Lawrence. I hid evidence about Briggs killing Juan. _

_I'm giving this to you, because you've always been the best in me. You're my answer. For everything. I thought I could fix it. I thought once I got Sid I would be redeemed, but I've never felt so lost. I don't know what to do now with all the horrible things I've done. So I'm leaving it up to you. Do whatever you want with the evidence. Turn me in if you think it's right, but know that I don't regret a thing that happened between us. Because I don't care if I'm the Lead director of the FBI or in jail for the rest of my days, I will always be in love with you. Getting transferred to Graceland was the best thing that ever happened to me, because I met you. Call it a fling. Call it a mistake. Whatever you call it, know I wouldn't trade it for the world._

_Love Always, _

_Mike_

Paige stares at the screen, her report forgotten. There's only one file left to click on. The one marked "Confession." The one filled with enough proof to put Mike Warren away for the rest of his days. Evidence of Mike torturing people, killing people. All his worst secrets.

She guides the mouse over to the file, and then without opening it moves it to the trash.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Not as fully edited as I would like, but I was asked for an update and I can never say no to lovesloveandangst. This may be the last chapter. I have one more slightly ridiculous smut/fluff chapter in rough draft stages, but I kind of like this ending better. I may do the other chapter as a one shot separate story, if I do it at all.

Thanks for the note about Paige's wig undercover Katie. Also there's a good interview about "Sin Eating" out there, which hints at what's coming for next season. It sounds good. Like they're gonna bring it back to the house working together, which is nice, because I was not a fan of a lot of last season.

* * *

It's New Years Eve and Mike is standing on a small balcony outside another office party. Everyone inside is in cocktail attire. The night air is cool, but in his drunken state he barely notices. He nurses his drink slowly, enjoying his brief moment of silent contemplation. It's the first he's moment he's had alone had all night. His date, some pretty environmental lobbyist, is probably looking for him, the ball will drop soon, but Mike needed some fresh air.

Mike's not sure about how he feels about putting the last year behind him. On one hand, a new start may be just what he needs, on the other hand he's depressed about letting go of his past. He's in DC now. It's unlikely he'll ever see the steps of Graceland again. He didn't leave on as warm of terms as he did the first time. The chances of Briggs calling him out of the blue and asking him back are slim. Last he heard, Briggs and Charlie are moving out anyways to find a place with a nursery and less guns.

Mike hopes it works out for them. Everyone has to grow up sometime. Mike certainly has. He's settled in DC now, working an office job in a higher pay grade than anyone of his age should hope to have. He bought a couch the other day, which felt like one of those grown up accomplishments. It wasn't a piece of crap temporary ikea couch to hold a place while he waited for the next adventure. This was an honest to god, monster of a solid leather couch. This couch meant Mike was keeping his ass put.

He started having his midlife crisis right after he bought the couch. On one hand, this was the couch of his dreams, in the city of his dreams, bought by the money he earned from the job on his dreams. So why did he still feel so empty?

Speaking of empty, Mike looks down at his now empty glass and tries to calculate out the ramifications of getting another drink, but it's hazy. He's already pretty drunk, but no one drives in DC and he can only take so much of people asking him about recent promotions, future proposal plans or asking him if he'd considered running in politics.

If he goes inside for another drink, people will try to talk to him again, however he loses his excuse of stepping out for a drink if his glass is empty. He's just to the point of drunkenness, where if someone talks to him, something stupid may slip out, but he's also just a few beers away from making sure he passes out in a dreamless sleep tonight. It's almost midnight, almost a new year, and he can go home escape this mindless networking and go home.

This is what party's were in DC, merely necessary evils with which to advance one's career. No one socializes in DC, it's always networking. No one has friendships, they have contacts. No one dated, they negotiated advantageous unions. It was a game that everyone hated, but everyone played.

Mike was normally very good at playing the game, but tonight he's just tired. He looks down at his drink and sighs. Time to dive back in with the sharks. If he's quick he can grab his drink and escape to the men's bathroom to avoid his date when the ball drops. He's fairly certain she's found a Senator with far more political capital than Mike to kiss at midnight anyways.

Most of the people are gathered around the tv screen and the live band who are beginning the announcements to prepare for the ball drop, so miraculously the line to the bar is short. Mike is only behind one woman in a gold dress who has the most fantastic ass he's ever seen.

"Another Long Beach, please." She orders in front of him.

"Make that two. On me." Mike says, trying to save the bartender some time, and takes it as an opportunity to hit on the girl. Yes, he's technically on a date with another woman tonight, but an ass that amazing should not buy her own drinks. He leans in to say to her, "Sorry. Have to get those final drink orders in before the clock strikes midnight and I have to start my new years resolutions."

"Drink less?" The girl asks, not turning around.

"No, go to bed early. Want to join me?" He leans in closer and whispers, what he hopes is seductively, before he remembers he's at a government office party, and he probably just made an ass out of himself in front of the new secretary. There's going to be a scandal written about this in the New York Times tomorrow about him sexually harassing the staff if he's not careful. He should just go back to his date, who while an obnoxiously obvious social climber, was a sure thing.

"Maybe your resolution should be to work on your game. That pick up line is horrible." Mike's jaw drops as the girl turns around and he realizes the reality is much worse than anything he'd been imagining before.

"Paige…" Mike stutters in shock.

"Oh it's even worse you didn't know it was me. What has DC done to you this time?" Paige laughs when she realizes to Mike's embarrassment that he had used that line non ironically on a stranger.

"Your hair… Wait, what? What are you doing here?" He pulls her into a truly awkward surprised hug as he tries to wrap his mind around what was happening. Not that his eyes had made it up much farther than her ass, but her hair was cropped in a short pixie cut, and what was she doing here?

"I got your letter." She says, as Mike just stands there gaping at her.

"My what?" Mike's drunken brain struggles to make sense of anything. This has got to be a dream, or more appropriately a nightmare considering the ass he just made of himself. Paige Arkin is not in DC. He doesn't remember writing to her from out here.

"The letter you left on my USB drive. It took me a while to find it." Paige explains, and Mike's expression hardens.

After months of not hearing from her, expecting the police to show up at his door any minute, he'd finally let his guard down. Now that he'd finally relaxed and adjusted to everyday life, here she was to turn his world upside down again. His mouth runs dry. The months of silence hadn't been that she had forgiven him as he hoped, she just hadn't found the evidence until this point.

"Should I be expecting to be arrested any minute? Because if so I'd like to finish my drink." Mike tries to hide his panic and stall as he reaches for the glass behind her and takes a long swig.

"No." She states, as her lips take on a playful grin. "But if you're so intent on being cuffed, I left my handcuffs back in my apartment."

Mike chokes on his drink, spilling it down his front and nearly spitting it all over her gorgeous gold dress.

"You're not the only one who can use bad pickup lines." She laughs at his reaction as he sputters.

"Your…" Mike's drunken mind races to catch up with all this new information. "Wait, your apartment? You mean your hotel room?"

"It's a five minute cab ride away. If we leave now, we might be able to find a cab and avoid the rush before the the ball drops."

"Your apartment." Mike repeats, still unable to process this information.

"Unless you'd prefer to go to yours."

"You want to go… to my apartment?" Mike seems to be stuck on the word of apartment. What is happening here? Paige is in DC… offering to go back to his apartment. This must be a dream, he must have passed out in his office or something.

"Do you have a better offer?" Her eyes look pointedly to the redhead Mike brought, who's standing across the room talking to an older politician.

"No!" Mike says quickly. He doesn't want her to think he's rejecting the idea of going home with her. He just cannot even wrap his mind around the fact that she's here. "I just… Paige, what about Graceland? You have an apartment here too?"

"Not too. Just here. I transferred to DC." Paige looks at him cautiously, waiting for this information to sink in. Like she's asking if this is ok.

"You transferred to DC? When?!" Mike feels like he should have gotten a memo on that at the very least. He hadn't spoken to anyone back at Graceland since he left. He should have kept in touch more, or someone should have alerted him to this. He's the head of the FBI for christs sakes! Shouldn't his secretary be keeping tabs on his exgirlfriends?

"A few days ago. I start my new job next week." She answers shyly.

"But why? You love California." Mike asks. He's cursing himself for drinking so much tonight, because he is at an obvious disadvantage here. Not that he thinks he would be doing that much better sober. He did not see this coming when he thought of the new year.

"I do. But there's more possibilities here." The soft vulnerability in her voice and the unspoken words makes it all real for Mike. She's here for him. She transferred in DC for him.

He just stands there and stares at her for a moment as the reality rushes over him that this is not a dream. She's really here, and she's here because of him.

"10… 9… 8…"

The countdown brings Mike out of his haze. Suddenly he's aware they're in a room with hundreds of people, and he can't handle it. Mike sees his date heading over in his direction, and he quickly grabs Paige by the hand and drags her away through the crowd, leaving their abandoned drinks on the bar.

Pulling her outside into the cold night air, he can still hear the countdown inside.

"3… 2… 1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Everyone screams, but Mike is silent as he just stares at Paige still unable to believe she's here. She looks up at him nervously, and Mike wonders how she thought this would go down. Was she planning on ever calling him to let him know, or just running into him casually? Did she come to this party to see him? If so, why hadn't she found him sooner?

"You moved here? For me? You actually got an apartment in DC?" He asks in disbelief. The cold snow falling from above has cleared his drunken head a little and he's feeling a little more capable of handling this, but not really. He's worried now that he's reading too much into this. Maybe she didn't move here for him. Maybe she doesn't want to get back together. Maybe she is wearing that dress for someone else. Maybe she hasn't forgiven him.

"Yes." She answers simply, and Mike suddenly feels high.

"Like signed a lease and everything?" Mike presses on, needing to gather all the information possible.

"Yes." Paige says, starting to look incredibly unsure of herself. At the time she read that letter she had acted so rashly. She'd put in for a transfer that day, and within two weeks she'd found herself saying goodbye to Graceland. Maybe it had been a mistake.

"Paige you shouldn't have done that." Mike says, shaking his head staring up at the sky in disbelief. "Did you at least sign the lease for month to month?"

"Oh… I…"

It never occurred to her that maybe Mike had moved on. That he didn't want her here. Of course he had. It had been months with no contact. Before that she had literally sent someone to kill him. That red head in there is his girlfriend and she's ruined everything and she feels so foolish. She turns to push by him, but he catches her in his arms before she can flee.

"Screw it. It doesn't matter. You'll just have to break it and move in with me." His voice is dark and husky, and it take Paige a second to realize what he just said.

He doesn't want her to leave, he wants her to move in with him. Which would normally seem a little fast, except she's just picked up her whole life and moved for him, so it really shouldn't be a surprise. What is a surprise is how much Paige wants to move in with him. It's not like they haven't lived together before… but still, considering all that's happened between them maybe they should take things slower. Stares up at his intense eyes focused completely on her, she realizes she doesn't want to go slow. She wants to make up for lost time. Still, she can't give in that easy… She should make him sweat a little.

"Well, we'll see. It's a _very nice _apartment." She says, her voice taking on a teasing tone, a smile forming on her face.

"Oh yeah?" Mike is staring at her lips and smiling, holding her even tighter to him and she just nods, biting her lower lip. "Show me."


End file.
